Same old, same old—canon characters belong to TPTB, Reno Vamps belong to me. Some bad language and more dark themes. Still holding steady at a PG- 13
CHAPTER 13
Nick went up the staircase and knocked on the door of the human's room. Judy, the mother of the pair, opened the door very carefully. The former detective smiled.
"Hi and good morning. The CASA people will be here soon to take you to the shelter. I just wanted to make sure you were awake."
Judy ran a hand through her brunette curls. Nick thought she looked a lot better then when she and her daughter had been brought in a couple of nights ago. You could still see redness around her throat and her lip was still puffed up some. Nick for the first time noticed a patch of hair was missing around her ear. Her eyeglasses were missing a temple and also the nose pad on one side.
"Thank you, Mr. Knight, I do appreciate all you're doing for me," said she, with a fluttery nervous hand movement. "I didn't want to sleep in the park, but I just had to get away from George. I passed out when he started choking me, and when I came to, Jessie was there crying and I knew then that some way or another I would have to leave, money or not. So, thank you so much." This last said with tears in her eyes.
Nick smiled. "Not a problem at all. Do call me Nick, though. Mr. Knight is a tad formal, given the circumstances." His ears picked up the sound of a shower running. "Is there anything you need, any clothing or something?"
"No, no...what we had on yesterday is fine. We'll get more clothing from the shelter people I'm sure."
"If you're sure," Nick began, and then stopped. Judy did not seem the kind of women who would want pity taken of her. "I have breakfast going, the most important meal of the day."
Judy apologized once more and went back into the room to continue morning ablutions.
By 8am, they were all sitting in the library eating. Or at least Judy and Jessica were—bacon, eggs, toast—the works. The smell nauseated Nick some, but he kept smiling. He even managed to get the 11 year old Jessica to laugh. He was reminded of Lisa Cooper, who he had taken care of when she had witnessed a mob hit. Last he had heard Lisa's dad had gotten a job closer to home and they were both doing great.
He also learned more about Judy. She was born and raised in Oregon, where Lisa was born. Lisa's natural father died when she was only 3 and Judy married George when Lisa was 8. At first it was a happy time with no hints of problems. The abuse began, as most do, gradually. First it was yelling over little things, exacerbated a lot by George's drinking—which he started to do a lot of when he lost his job. Then one day, tired of being yelled at, Judy said something smart back and George backhanded her across the face. Tiny separations were always followed by reconciliations, and the abuse got worse. Her parents were dead and no support system was in place for her.
Six months ago, George thought a move to Nevada would be good. They had jobs there, which the small lumber town did not. George got a job as a change person at the Sands, but was fired after several banks came up short. Next he went to the Atlantis, where he worked as a busboy at The Purple Parrot, but he was terminated from there as well for calling in once too often. Then he finally lucked into a job he said he enjoyed—as a live in handy man for a small apartment complex. Rent was part of the wages, and for a short lived time, everything was fine. Jessica liked her new school and Judy even found part time work as a cashier at Albertson's. Then George began his complaint's anew—Judy was never home when he needed her, she was letting herself go, Jessica was being bratty, the house was a mess—anything and everything. The abuse began again and with more fury. George carried a pager, but refused a phone in the house and made Judy quit her job. Since he was on property most of the time, he would pop in on her to make sure she "wasn't cheating or slacking off her housewife duties", to quote him. He was disappointed that she wasn't pregnant yet, he wanted a child of his own and he began to resent Jessica. Now the abuse began on her as well—long pants and shirts became de rigueur. She didn't dare tell anyone lest George make good on his threats to kill her and her mom.
The kicker came when George had the day off and went off with his buddies to a local bar. Drunk, he staggered home and immediately began in on Jessica. Judy jumped in and he turned on her with an awesome fury—ending with his choking her. When she passed out, he got frightened and left the apartment. She came to with Jessica in tears with welts on her legs from the belt he used earlier. That was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back and she took her purse and left the house, walking along the path that led along the Truckee. At Wingfield Park, she collapsed, exhausted. A homeless man, seeing her in her condition with a bruised child, made a phone call and the cops came and called the battered women's shelter. They were full but were expecting openings on Monday. The DFS was called and that was how Bethany Powers came upon the scene.
This sad tale was told over breakfast and morning cartoons. At 9am on the nose, the front door opened and in came a short Mexican woman. This was Blanca, Cary's housekeeper and she took in the situation with a surprised look. No one was ever awake in this house during the daytime hours. Blanca kept her own counsel on this and Nick suspected she knew there was something not quite right with her employer, but she kept quiet on it. She walked up to Nick and addressed him.
"Usted es senor Nick, la derecha?" she inquired, making sure of his identity.
"Si," Nick answered in the positive.
"Y quienes son esta gente y senor Cary los sabe esta aqui?" she demanded, wanting to know if Cary knew they were here.
"El hace y se estan yendo pronto. Soy el esperar justo en su paseo," Nick explained making sure she knew that their stay was only temporary.
"Bueno," she nodded, and went into the kitchen to check her to do list for the day. Nick smiled at how protective she was of her employer.
"You speak Spanish really good," commented Jessica. "I'm taking it in school, and it's sort of hard. It's like English but backwards."
"Thank you, Jessica. You should pick it up rather quickly though. I have an ear for languages," Nick told her, thinking that in 800 years he had picked up a few languages. But he though wryly, with the exception of the Asian languages, most of the others resembled his native French.
Soon after this, and with Nick hiding a few yawns, the bell rang. Nick opened the door for Bethany and another woman, introduced as Hillary Cannick from the Committee to Aid Abused Women.
They greeted Nick and told him what an angel he was. After some small talk, Nick made excuses about being tired from being up all night, though he didn't say why. The ladies understood perfectly and turned to go. Nick pulled Bethany aside and handed her some money, telling her to get Judy some new glasses with it. Bethany said that she would. Judy gave Nick a big hug, as did Jessica, remarking that Nick must be cold. By 10am they were all gone, with Blanca giving him a look that showed she approved of this. Nick told her good morning and headed upstairs and straight into bed, where he fell immediately asleep, thinking that he would have a place especially for such women, and men if they qualified, in his agency.
That night, Nick awoke around 8pm, showered, got dressed and walked downstairs for his breakfast. He was poring himself a glass of cow when Cary came in, yawning.
"Evening," greeted he, taking a pitcher of the real stuff and pouring it into his mug, then heating it.
"Hi." Nick walked into the library and sat in one of the comfortable wing chairs there.
"Everything work out all right?" Asked Cary, meaning the mortals.
"It did." Silence for a moment as they enjoyed their respective meals. "I know who I would like to chose, for tonight." This said in a rather awkward way.
"Really? You actually have someone in mind?"
Nick nodded and was about to say something else when the doorbell rang. Cary got up to answer and came back in with Alex and Colin. Both were dressed in black, as was Cary. Nick supposed it was better that way and got up to shower and change.
In the end, it was nearly midnight when the four left the house for the next parts of Nick's tests. The blond vampire figured it would be easier to show his flying skills by just doing it and so he did, leading them to a small apartment complex. He walked up to door 107 and knocked. The door was opened a crack, but Nick pushed in wider and entered the small dwelling.
The apartment was very neat, if shabby looking. Nick's sharp eyesight picked out the spots of blood on the carpeting. The man who had opened the door was a tall fellow with brown hair and blue eyes. He was lean, but had a beer belly on him. He also smelled like a brewery, and indeed the cans of Miller lying around attested to the reason.
"You the cops? If so, I ain't seen that bitch for the last three days," he told Nick.
"A cop? No, not anymore. I take it you're George." Nick had to get the identification straight.
"Yeah, so? If you ain't the cops, why the fuck are you here?"
"Your wife and daughter..."
"She ain't my daughter," interrupted George, with all the bluster of the drunk.
"Your wife and daughter," Nick began once more, forcefully, "are safe."
"So, who gives a flying fuck? Bitch'll come back, she always does."
"She might, but she won't come back to you," said the vampire. He turned to Cary. "This is the one."
"The one what? Who the hell are you?" George noticed Cary coming closer, bloodlust making his eyes seem golden and his fangs extended. The mortal went into a straight out panic. "Fuck! What's going on? Is this the dt's?"
"No," said Cary, a growl to his voice. Then he pushed the man's head to the side and bit, no ceremony or forewarning, just a bite. George tried to struggle, but it was hopeless. Cary's eyes closed as he drank in the blood. Nick moved away for privacy, but Alex came forward. The Russian vampire took up George's wrist and sank his own fangs. Together, the two managed to drain the man in rather quick order. Alex let go first, staring at Cary's dark head. Then Cary pulled out, and sort of reclined on the couch, exhausted and a little tipsy from all the alcohol. Alex took advantage of this stupor to kneel down next to him and slowly lowered his head to the others lips. It took Cary, deep in his blissed state, a moment to recognize this and pull out. He pushed Alex away rather forcefully.
"What are you doing?" Cary managed, putting a hand up—sort of semi shielding his eyes and tilting back his head—moaning in a sort of ecstasy as the full force of the blood hit his system.
"Sorry, my darling. I got carried away," apologized the other, kissing his love's hand.
Colin had seen enough. He was not exactly a sentimentalist.
"Fine. Cary, snap the hell out of it. Nick, now what?"
The former detective looked around and saw a .9mm on the end table. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Judy and Jessica would have never lived another hour if they had come home. Nick, knowing what had to be done but disliking it just the same, put the gun in the lifeless hands and made George pull the trigger—aiming at his throat. He gun made a short, very brief sound. Nick, knowing that vampires did not have fingerprints per se to leave, then arranged the scene very carefully to make it look like a suicide.
A sound was heard approaching and the vampire's vanished faster than human eyes could see out the door and into the skies.
CHAPTER 13
Nick went up the staircase and knocked on the door of the human's room. Judy, the mother of the pair, opened the door very carefully. The former detective smiled.
"Hi and good morning. The CASA people will be here soon to take you to the shelter. I just wanted to make sure you were awake."
Judy ran a hand through her brunette curls. Nick thought she looked a lot better then when she and her daughter had been brought in a couple of nights ago. You could still see redness around her throat and her lip was still puffed up some. Nick for the first time noticed a patch of hair was missing around her ear. Her eyeglasses were missing a temple and also the nose pad on one side.
"Thank you, Mr. Knight, I do appreciate all you're doing for me," said she, with a fluttery nervous hand movement. "I didn't want to sleep in the park, but I just had to get away from George. I passed out when he started choking me, and when I came to, Jessie was there crying and I knew then that some way or another I would have to leave, money or not. So, thank you so much." This last said with tears in her eyes.
Nick smiled. "Not a problem at all. Do call me Nick, though. Mr. Knight is a tad formal, given the circumstances." His ears picked up the sound of a shower running. "Is there anything you need, any clothing or something?"
"No, no...what we had on yesterday is fine. We'll get more clothing from the shelter people I'm sure."
"If you're sure," Nick began, and then stopped. Judy did not seem the kind of women who would want pity taken of her. "I have breakfast going, the most important meal of the day."
Judy apologized once more and went back into the room to continue morning ablutions.
By 8am, they were all sitting in the library eating. Or at least Judy and Jessica were—bacon, eggs, toast—the works. The smell nauseated Nick some, but he kept smiling. He even managed to get the 11 year old Jessica to laugh. He was reminded of Lisa Cooper, who he had taken care of when she had witnessed a mob hit. Last he had heard Lisa's dad had gotten a job closer to home and they were both doing great.
He also learned more about Judy. She was born and raised in Oregon, where Lisa was born. Lisa's natural father died when she was only 3 and Judy married George when Lisa was 8. At first it was a happy time with no hints of problems. The abuse began, as most do, gradually. First it was yelling over little things, exacerbated a lot by George's drinking—which he started to do a lot of when he lost his job. Then one day, tired of being yelled at, Judy said something smart back and George backhanded her across the face. Tiny separations were always followed by reconciliations, and the abuse got worse. Her parents were dead and no support system was in place for her.
Six months ago, George thought a move to Nevada would be good. They had jobs there, which the small lumber town did not. George got a job as a change person at the Sands, but was fired after several banks came up short. Next he went to the Atlantis, where he worked as a busboy at The Purple Parrot, but he was terminated from there as well for calling in once too often. Then he finally lucked into a job he said he enjoyed—as a live in handy man for a small apartment complex. Rent was part of the wages, and for a short lived time, everything was fine. Jessica liked her new school and Judy even found part time work as a cashier at Albertson's. Then George began his complaint's anew—Judy was never home when he needed her, she was letting herself go, Jessica was being bratty, the house was a mess—anything and everything. The abuse began again and with more fury. George carried a pager, but refused a phone in the house and made Judy quit her job. Since he was on property most of the time, he would pop in on her to make sure she "wasn't cheating or slacking off her housewife duties", to quote him. He was disappointed that she wasn't pregnant yet, he wanted a child of his own and he began to resent Jessica. Now the abuse began on her as well—long pants and shirts became de rigueur. She didn't dare tell anyone lest George make good on his threats to kill her and her mom.
The kicker came when George had the day off and went off with his buddies to a local bar. Drunk, he staggered home and immediately began in on Jessica. Judy jumped in and he turned on her with an awesome fury—ending with his choking her. When she passed out, he got frightened and left the apartment. She came to with Jessica in tears with welts on her legs from the belt he used earlier. That was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back and she took her purse and left the house, walking along the path that led along the Truckee. At Wingfield Park, she collapsed, exhausted. A homeless man, seeing her in her condition with a bruised child, made a phone call and the cops came and called the battered women's shelter. They were full but were expecting openings on Monday. The DFS was called and that was how Bethany Powers came upon the scene.
This sad tale was told over breakfast and morning cartoons. At 9am on the nose, the front door opened and in came a short Mexican woman. This was Blanca, Cary's housekeeper and she took in the situation with a surprised look. No one was ever awake in this house during the daytime hours. Blanca kept her own counsel on this and Nick suspected she knew there was something not quite right with her employer, but she kept quiet on it. She walked up to Nick and addressed him.
"Usted es senor Nick, la derecha?" she inquired, making sure of his identity.
"Si," Nick answered in the positive.
"Y quienes son esta gente y senor Cary los sabe esta aqui?" she demanded, wanting to know if Cary knew they were here.
"El hace y se estan yendo pronto. Soy el esperar justo en su paseo," Nick explained making sure she knew that their stay was only temporary.
"Bueno," she nodded, and went into the kitchen to check her to do list for the day. Nick smiled at how protective she was of her employer.
"You speak Spanish really good," commented Jessica. "I'm taking it in school, and it's sort of hard. It's like English but backwards."
"Thank you, Jessica. You should pick it up rather quickly though. I have an ear for languages," Nick told her, thinking that in 800 years he had picked up a few languages. But he though wryly, with the exception of the Asian languages, most of the others resembled his native French.
Soon after this, and with Nick hiding a few yawns, the bell rang. Nick opened the door for Bethany and another woman, introduced as Hillary Cannick from the Committee to Aid Abused Women.
They greeted Nick and told him what an angel he was. After some small talk, Nick made excuses about being tired from being up all night, though he didn't say why. The ladies understood perfectly and turned to go. Nick pulled Bethany aside and handed her some money, telling her to get Judy some new glasses with it. Bethany said that she would. Judy gave Nick a big hug, as did Jessica, remarking that Nick must be cold. By 10am they were all gone, with Blanca giving him a look that showed she approved of this. Nick told her good morning and headed upstairs and straight into bed, where he fell immediately asleep, thinking that he would have a place especially for such women, and men if they qualified, in his agency.
That night, Nick awoke around 8pm, showered, got dressed and walked downstairs for his breakfast. He was poring himself a glass of cow when Cary came in, yawning.
"Evening," greeted he, taking a pitcher of the real stuff and pouring it into his mug, then heating it.
"Hi." Nick walked into the library and sat in one of the comfortable wing chairs there.
"Everything work out all right?" Asked Cary, meaning the mortals.
"It did." Silence for a moment as they enjoyed their respective meals. "I know who I would like to chose, for tonight." This said in a rather awkward way.
"Really? You actually have someone in mind?"
Nick nodded and was about to say something else when the doorbell rang. Cary got up to answer and came back in with Alex and Colin. Both were dressed in black, as was Cary. Nick supposed it was better that way and got up to shower and change.
In the end, it was nearly midnight when the four left the house for the next parts of Nick's tests. The blond vampire figured it would be easier to show his flying skills by just doing it and so he did, leading them to a small apartment complex. He walked up to door 107 and knocked. The door was opened a crack, but Nick pushed in wider and entered the small dwelling.
The apartment was very neat, if shabby looking. Nick's sharp eyesight picked out the spots of blood on the carpeting. The man who had opened the door was a tall fellow with brown hair and blue eyes. He was lean, but had a beer belly on him. He also smelled like a brewery, and indeed the cans of Miller lying around attested to the reason.
"You the cops? If so, I ain't seen that bitch for the last three days," he told Nick.
"A cop? No, not anymore. I take it you're George." Nick had to get the identification straight.
"Yeah, so? If you ain't the cops, why the fuck are you here?"
"Your wife and daughter..."
"She ain't my daughter," interrupted George, with all the bluster of the drunk.
"Your wife and daughter," Nick began once more, forcefully, "are safe."
"So, who gives a flying fuck? Bitch'll come back, she always does."
"She might, but she won't come back to you," said the vampire. He turned to Cary. "This is the one."
"The one what? Who the hell are you?" George noticed Cary coming closer, bloodlust making his eyes seem golden and his fangs extended. The mortal went into a straight out panic. "Fuck! What's going on? Is this the dt's?"
"No," said Cary, a growl to his voice. Then he pushed the man's head to the side and bit, no ceremony or forewarning, just a bite. George tried to struggle, but it was hopeless. Cary's eyes closed as he drank in the blood. Nick moved away for privacy, but Alex came forward. The Russian vampire took up George's wrist and sank his own fangs. Together, the two managed to drain the man in rather quick order. Alex let go first, staring at Cary's dark head. Then Cary pulled out, and sort of reclined on the couch, exhausted and a little tipsy from all the alcohol. Alex took advantage of this stupor to kneel down next to him and slowly lowered his head to the others lips. It took Cary, deep in his blissed state, a moment to recognize this and pull out. He pushed Alex away rather forcefully.
"What are you doing?" Cary managed, putting a hand up—sort of semi shielding his eyes and tilting back his head—moaning in a sort of ecstasy as the full force of the blood hit his system.
"Sorry, my darling. I got carried away," apologized the other, kissing his love's hand.
Colin had seen enough. He was not exactly a sentimentalist.
"Fine. Cary, snap the hell out of it. Nick, now what?"
The former detective looked around and saw a .9mm on the end table. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Judy and Jessica would have never lived another hour if they had come home. Nick, knowing what had to be done but disliking it just the same, put the gun in the lifeless hands and made George pull the trigger—aiming at his throat. He gun made a short, very brief sound. Nick, knowing that vampires did not have fingerprints per se to leave, then arranged the scene very carefully to make it look like a suicide.
A sound was heard approaching and the vampire's vanished faster than human eyes could see out the door and into the skies.